


Poster Girl

by starwrite_er



Series: Poster Boy [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pilot!Reader, Slow Burn, rivals to lovers?, set before and during TFA
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-24 10:00:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9716579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starwrite_er/pseuds/starwrite_er
Summary: so as you may have guessed, this is a companion fic for Poster Boy, this time more-or-less from Poe's perspective so yeah. nice. hopefully? anyway here u go. ALSO this companion fic will hint at bits and pieces not featured in Poster Boy for obvious reasons.





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: wow writing this was surreal. we've come so far since Poe and the reader disliked each other like this.

"Red Squadron, Ivory Squadron, you’re up." I shout to the pilots lounging around the hangar. It was supposed to just be a simple defense mission, holding off oncoming First Order forces while the personnel stationed on Hoth could evacuate. The red squadron are already by their X-Wings, while the larger Ivory Squadron take a moment longer, seeming to have had to break up their chat mid conversation.

These are good pilots, and they waste no time in arriving at the set destination. The Hoth system is home to a small Resistance outpost in addition to the old ruins of the Rebel Alliance’s Echo Base. Coming out of hyperspace gives us a full view of the icy planet and the small scale fight happening just outside. A small squadron of X-Wing Starfighters, the Azure Squadron, had been stationed at the Hoth outpost are already fighting.

"Alright, here we go. Lock S-Foils in attack position.“ I command my pilots. It only takes a moment for the TIE Fighters to notice the backup, and, unfortunately, these pilots aren't too bad themselves.

"This is Azure Four, requesting backup! I’ve got a whole lot of TIEs on my tail here!” Calls out the voice of one of the pilots from Hoth.

"BB-09, lock onto Azure Four’s position.“ One of my pilots speak up, though it's not a voice that I’m particularly familiar with. "This is Ivory One. I’m on my way.” And that would be the reason why. I’m closer to the Red and Blue squadrons. All the pilots knew each other, but the Ivory squadron kept to themselves just a little more than the others.

Still, it's only natural for me to feel at least a bit of concern for my comrades when they dive in to do something dangerous, which is why I watch this Ivory pilot as they swoop in to save Azure Four. I have my own enemies to take down, but I still see how they quickly and cleanly destroy the TIE Fighters on the X-Wing's tail, even going as far as to show off and throw a little loop in there. Small details, but it's enough for me to crack a smile. Hearing my pilots safe and happy is music to the my ears, so hearing the gleeful laughter of Ivory One through the comms works to broaden my smile.

"That was some fancy flying, Ivory One. Thanks for the save.“ Azure Four's voice says over the comms.

"Just doing what I can.” The prior mentioned pilot replies, almost humbly.

"The laughter as you shot those ships down _really_ made the moment.“ Their comrade - Jenn, I remember - jokes.

"What can I say, Ivory Three? I love my job.” Ivory One responds, and I can practically hear the grin in her voice.

The banter between the pilots vanishes as more First Order forces appear. My frown is deep as I recognise the old Star Destroyer entering the battle. A damn old ship for an organisation as well funded as the First Order. The General had mentioned that the personnel stationed on the Hoth outpost were coming very close to figuring out what to do with the information the Resistance had gathered on Luke Skywalker, but she failed to elaborate further, simply saying that everyone was being transferred to the main headquarters as a safety precaution. When the main base on D'Qar received the S.O.S, however, it quickly became clear that the First Order had caught drift of the Resistance's findings. So, sending in this much fire power? Desperate, but not entirely surprising. Sending in technology as flawed as that of a Star Destroyer? Well...

My mind races, the voices of my comrades background noise. It's a Star Destroyer; everyone has heard the stories of how they were destroyed. The enemy must be developing something new - data on this model of ship was old now - or they were trying to clear out their old stock for something new. Either way, it doesn't look good.

"Alright, listen up everyone. Ivory Two, Four, Five, make sure those TIE Fighters don’t get near that Star Destroyer. Ivory Three, Six, deal with those turbolasers. Azure Squadron, am I correct in thinking you still consist of six pilots?” The commanding, if not slightly pissed off voice of Ivory One breaks me from my thoughts. What in the name of the Force was she doing? She should know the consequences of usurping a commanding officer in a situation like this.

Another thought comes to mind, and I cringe inwardly at myself. I was usually better than this. Usually I was focused enough to do my job and give orders.

"Yes, Ivory Leader.“ I raise my brows at this new development from the Azure Squadron. Ivory _Leader_ , hey?

"I need Azure One and Two to deal with those deflector shield generator globes. Azure Three, Four, help my team with those armaments - focus on the ion cannons. Azure Five, Six, help keep those TIEs off our tails.” Ivory Leader instructs. They certainly seem to have relaxed into the role quickly, bossing the team around with such certainty in their actions and firing shots at the Star Destroyer's defense system. Ivory One... Ivory One... who was that? Oh. Right. Lieutenant Y/N Y/L/N. Alright then, Lieutenant, not bad so far, but let's see how you deal with the rest of this mission.

"Red Squadron, bring down those armaments. Take out any TIE that gets too close. Red Four, watch my back. Keep an eye out for Ivory _Leader_ , too.“ Okay, maybe the bitterness was a bit uncharacteristic and uncalled for, I'll admit, but she is kind of taking my job here, so it was more or less justified.

While Lieutenant Y/L/N circles back around the Star Destroyer, I swoop in, targeting one of the shield generators. From a ship like his, it doesn't take much to bring down the already damaged orb. Azure Two announces the destruction of of the generator they were targeting. "This is Black Leader. The shield generators are down, _Ivory One_.“ I inform the Lieutenant, reminding her of her place, knowing fully well that she saw them destroyed.

As I take out any TIE Fighter getting too close to the ship, I keep a close eye on the X-Wing belonging to Ivory One. It swoops round the ship and into position, constantly firing at the bridge of the Star Destroyer. Finishing it off, they finally hit it with the X-Wing’s torpedoes, activating their shield as they fly through the flames of the bridge. As they swerve around in a wide arc, directing their firepower towards the remaining TIE Fighters, Lieutenant Y/L/N whoops and laughs as the enemy warship begins to sink towards the frozen wasteland that is Hoth. My attitude softens, hearing the genuine excitement at the defeat of an enemy like _that_.

Okay, maybe I was being a little unfair. She _was_ just filling my space while my mind was elsewhere. Even the teasing of her teammates doesn't bring her down.

"Azure One, send a message down to Hoth informing them of this scrap,“ I notice the Lieutenant quickly pipe down as I speak, and I honestly feel just the tiniest bit guilty. "Not bad, Ivory One, but next time leave the commanding to me."

"Right. Sorry, Sir." They reply, voice quieter, almost regretful. Okay, yeah, now I definitely feel guilty.

The area surrounding Hoth seems to be clear of First Order ships, and going through the motions as we return to base doesn't take long. Arriving on D'Qar, the pilots touch down on the landing strip, a small crowd gathered to congratulate us. Quick to exit my ship, I soak up the attention before heading to speak to General Organa. I can't help but glance back at the X-Wing belonging to Lieutenant Y/N Y/L/N, seeing her mentally prepping herself for whatever happens next.

"She knew what would happen, but she did it anyway." I murmur to myself, but the General hears me anyway.

"So would you, if your commanding officer was taking too long to respond in a situation like that," Leia gives me a look, a quiet and subtle scolding. It's brief, and the grey-haired woman turns her attention back to the other pilot quickly, calling her over. "Lieutenant Y/N Y/L/N, I'd like to have a word." The girl's friends pat her on the back and hurriedly leave.

"How can I help, General?" Lieutenant Y/L/N asks. With her helmet tucked casually under her arm, her body language relaxed, you'd guess she wasn't at all nervous. Not that that's actually the case, though. The three of us begin to walk through the corridors of the base.

"Usually somebody would be punished for disobeying the orders of their commanding officer and even giving orders of their own,” The General casts a sideways glance at me as I walk beside her on her left. “However, the orders you gave were more than suitable and the mission succeeded, so this time you’re off the hook. In fact, your actions may just earn you some recognition.”

Though I don’t look at her, I hear Y/N's almost silent sigh of relief, catching the slightest smile on her face out of the corner of my eye. Huh. She masked that uncertainty well.

"The mission will be discussed thoroughly. We may have more to tell you at a later date. You are dismissed, Lieutenant.“ General Organa tells the young woman before entering the Command Centre.

"That was some sharp flying out there. You’re not a bad pilot.” I say after a moment, drawing Y/N's attention, surprise flashing in her eyes.

"Thank you, Commander,“ She flashes a weak smile. "And, uh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken control the way I did.” I can feel that there's more she really wants to say, her apology sincere but holding an underlying bitterness.

A thought nags at the back of my mind. _She really doesn't like you. What did you do?_

"You took down the Star Destroyer, so I’d say your plan was a success. Maybe next time don’t show me up like that in front of my squadron, though,“ I grin at my fellow pilot. Sure, she stole my job back there, but I wasn't the type to hold unnecessary grudges. Besides, she proved herself back there. Even if I am torn about her dislike of me. "And just call me Poe.”

"Oh, right, okay. Thank you, Comman- uh, Poe,“ Y/N fidgets with her helmet. The unexpected interaction has brought out any awkwardness in her personality. "Sorry, I should probably be going.”

We hardly exchange a decent goodbye before she's left. Entering the Command Centre, I’m approached by the General.

"Of course we heard all the comms transmissions, but what do you think?" Leia pries. Yes, she was strategic and cutthroat when necessary, having grown up in the Rebel Alliance, but she had compassion for those risking life and limb for her cause. Maybe not always the best move to make, but acknowledging the opinions and feelings of her Resistance members made it all just that bit more meaningful.

"The pilots listened to her. She knew what she was doing," I say, thinking back. "I've heard the Ivory Squadron mention she was the 'leader' of their team. She not a commanding officer?"

"No. Why? Do you think she should be?" The General inquires. The pause in the conversation couldn't quite be described as hesitation.

"We all saw her plan take down a Star Destroyer. Last time I checked, that was grounds for a promotion," I find myself saying, even if it's more so me asking 'what would be best for the Resistance?' than it is my own opinion. "Even if she did cross the boundaries."

"Well, this _is_ a rebel cause; she was just rebelling a bit." The twinkle in Leia Organa's eye is enough to tell me that she is certainly considering my comment.


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: slight canon divergence from the comics? oh yeah lmao also spoilers for the poe dameron comics.

“Commander Dameron,” The General nods, acknowledging my presence. “It’s good to see you up bright and early.”

I open my mouth to reply, but she raises a hand to stop me, continuing her words.

“I’m sure you’re aware that after the recent incident in the Hoth system, all personnel station there is to be relocated here. They’re set to arrive this morning, so I need you on your best behaviour,” Organa says, a small smile on her face as she slips in the joke. She goes on, lowering her voice slightly. “Once they’re settled, we’ll discuss what move to make following your mission to Ovanis. Right now, however, I need you to deliver something.”

“Deliver something?” I repeat, an eyebrow raised in question. The General gestures to a pile of folded clothes, telling me a room number as she does.

“Be quick about it, I need you there when our comrades arrive. Tell the new Captain I want her there too, and to meet us on the landing strip.” General Organa makes it clear that there’s no more discussion to be had as she turns to address Connix at her side.

I repeat the room number to myself as I walk though the rustic, earthen corridors of the base. It’s moderately quiet, still too early for many to have yet woken up.

As I stand outside of the living quarters of the new Captain, I can’t imagine why I’ve been sent as the go-between for this.

“Can I help you?” Y/N snaps as the door slides open, eyes narrowed at me. I’m slightly taken aback that this is her room, and react by quickly shoving her new uniform into her arms, taking her by surprise.

"General needs you on the landing strip in 10. You’ll also need to hand in your old uniform at some point.” I tell her, wondering if she noticed how my words are spoken quicker than usual.

"Oh, uh, thanks?“ She says, looking confused. I vaguely shrug, stifling a yawn as I take a step away from her room - it’s too early. "Hey, you okay? You look exhausted.”

“Not everyone gets dismissed as early as you do.” I turn and walk away, wincing at how harsh my words sound. It takes a few moments before I hear her door close behind me. Stars, how many interactions between us have been kind on my side?

The General is already waiting outside. As I approach, she raises her brows at me, but quickly turns her attention to the sky.

“So, you promoted her?” I mention, obvious in who I’m talking about. Organa hums.

“Well, it was _your_ idea.” The older woman reminds me, a sly smile slipping onto her face as she glances at me out of the corner of her eye.

I mean, she’s not entirely _wrong_ , I guess.

At the sound of a mechanical chirping, I look over my shoulder to see Y/N and her astromech coming towards us. I watch as she slows down her pace as she gets close, running her hand through the loose strands of hair that have fallen out of place. She joins us, standing at the General’s side, and I drag my attention away.

"Our comrades from Hoth will be staying here as a result of the targeting from the First Order,“ General Organa informs Y/N, watching a small fleet of ships landing. "Seeing as you played a vital part in the battle yesterday, and you are already familiar with some of the personnel stationed at Hoth, I need you here.” The pilot nods in understanding.

I shift slightly beside Organa as the Hoth team approaches us.

"It’s good to see you, Colonel Agthin.“ The General greets. There was only a small team stationed at the Hoth outpost. The base, having been evacuated during the first Galactic Civil War, was intended as an emergency hideout more than anything else.

"And you, General Organa. We thank you for your assistance yesterday,” The older man smiles, gesturing to the pilots of the Azure Squadron. “Had your pilots not come to our aid, I dread to think of the lives and vital data we would have lost.”

"Of course. This is Commander Dameron and Captain Y/L/N,“ The General introduces us, and I nod in acknowledgment. I’m not entirely certain, admittedly, but I’m pretty sure the data he’s referring to links to other missions to be taken on by the Black Squadron. "You and your pilots may better recognise them as Black Leader and Ivory Leader, though.”

Out of the corner of my eye I spot the ghost of a smile on the General’s face as she glances at Y/N. Without looking at her, I can still feel her pride and excitement at the promotion.

Despite not following protocol, she’s a good pilot. I would’ve done the same, in her position.

The title ‘Captain’ suits her.

"If you would follow Commander Dameron and I to the Command Centre, bringing with you the data from Hoth,“ General Organa then turns to address Y/N. "Captain Y/L/N, show the Azure Squadron around - the necessary data has been sent to your datapad. You’ll be needing to get to know them.”

"Yes, General Organa.“ Y/N responds. I look over at her, seeing her pull out her datapad as her new squadron approaches her. I avert my gaze and walk alongside the other high ranked officials.

Leia and our comrades play catch up as we move deeper into the base. The Command Centre is quieter than usual, a sign of important meetings to come.

In this case, the ‘important meeting’ was once again recounting what happened on Ovanis. I’m almost certain everyone in this room is already fully aware, given the smaller-than-small number of people present, but I still go ahead and explain how the Crèche were guarding a giant egg of sorts, how the First Order showed up and it got a little difficult, how the Crèche elder had revealed further information about Lor San Tekka to me.

The exchange that follows my story is brief, and results in the obvious conclusion that nobody else should know about the search, and that considering an attempt to make Hoth the base for the mission was a mistake.

As officers return to their duties, the officials from Hoth leave the Command Centre, leaving me to speak with the General.

“Have you ever dealt with a Hutt?” She questions bluntly, looking away from me.

“Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure.” I answer, watching Leia closely. Her gaze is steely, brow furrowed and jaw clenched as she allows herself a moment to think about something.

“Megalox Beta...” The General takes a deep breath. “I’d imagine Grakkus the Hutt is at the top of the prisoner hierarchy there,” Leia hides the bitterness of her tone well. She turns, meeting my eye as she continues. “It’ll take quite the bribe to get you and your squadron in there. We need the information Grakkus has to offer, so try not to kill him.”

It sounds likes she’s making a dry, morbid joke, but I don’t know what about. It reminds me that, with all she did in the Rebellion, there must be things she never again mentioned.

The sound of approaching voices is caught by the General. She pauses, turning her attention to the stairs. At the top stands Y/N with her new squadron.

"Captain Y/L/N, once you’re finished touring your new squadron, please report back to me. I have something I wish to discuss.“ The General calls to her, momentarily breaking her conversation with me.

"Will do.” Y/N replies before leading her team away from the Command Centre. I pull my gaze back to General Organa, who’s watching me with a raised brow.

“What?” I question, and she shakes her head.

“It’s nothing, really. Just the smile you had,” Organa says with a wave of her hand, brushing past the subject. “Anyway, I believe our discussion is over for now. You’re dismissed.”

I head on out of the room, strolling down the corridors towards the hangar, keeping an eye out for my droid or any of my squadron members. I stick a hand in my pocket, only to find my datapad missing. Ah, kriff. I must have left it in the Command Centre. I turn on my heel, heading back the way I came.

The buzz of discussion and holos emits from the room, and I pause when I pick up on a particular conversation.

“-you seemed surprised when you found out about your promotion.” I hear the familiar voice of Leia Organa say.

I stop, knowing I shouldn’t but listening in anyway.

"Yeah, I, ah, I was actually expecting to be at least _de_ moted after my actions yesterday. I completely overstepped my boundaries, so I was a little surprised.“ It’s Y/N that replies to Organa. Her comment confirms that she was nervous about debriefing yesterday. I lean back against the wall as I listen.

"It was your quick thinking that took down that Star Destroyer, even if it was Poe’s job. You saved your comrades and faced the enemy with guile and bravery,” I hear the General reassure her. “Even Commander Dameron recognised it. That _is_ , after all, why _he_ was the one to suggest making you a commanding officer.”

"He… did?“ Y/N says slowly, pausing as she processes the information. I chew my lip, almost embarrassed that Leia told her that. "I thought he hated me after I took his place as leader yesterday!”

Ouch. Have I really been that harsh with her?

General Organa laughs softly before continuing. “Go now. You have a lot to read through and I’m sure your friends are wondering where you are. I’ll be in contact soon regarding a mission.”

I push away from the wall, my pace quickened and hands in my pockets as I walk away, not wanting to get caught eavesdropping.

Wait- okay, so the datapad was in my other pocket after all. Whoops.


	3. III

"Approaching the First Order base now. We good on the other side, Black Leader?“ Y/N’s voice sounds over the comms

"All clear over here.” I reply, approaching with the Blue Squadron the side of the small First Order base opposite Y/N’s.

The plan was to launch a small scale attack on the outpost as a distraction. Once the pilots lured their troops a short way away, I was to then sneak into the base to try and locate some information regarding the recent attack on Hoth. I know that the Resistance believed the Hoth outpost to be small enough to go unnoticed, and that’s why they had been keeping some highly classified information there. Most of the pilots had been told that we just needed to know how the First Order found out about this information so we could prevent it happening again, and as much as I didn’t like keeping information from them, here it was necessary.

It’s smooth sailing for the most part, with TIEs being blown out of the sky left, right, and centre. It’s too good to last, though.

"I’m smoking, but my droid should be able to deal with it.” The voice of Blue Two is slightly staticky. I frown, concerned. Out of the corner of my sight I spot Y/N fake out a couple of enemy pilots, sending them hurtling into the First Order building. Someone cries out, and I spot one of our pilots swoop in to take a shot from a TIE Fighter for their teammate. They smack into the same TIE and the two plummet into the forest.

"Blue Two is down.“ Blue Three says weakly. I swallow thickly. They died fighting for a good and just cause - there will be time to mourn later.

"Black Leader, any chance of giving us the signal?” Y/N’s voice is laced with discontent, yet stays clear even amongst the voices of the other pilots.

"Soon,“ I promise, setting my sights on the TIEs in my immediate vicinity. A few simple, well-aimed shots later, I decide I’m in the clear. "Now!”

Our forces move closer together and further away from me, bringing with them the fleet of TIE Fighters. Confident in the capabilities of my pilots, I swerve away from the dogfight, the S-Foils of my ship no longer locked in attack position as I fly alone.

A voice cuts sharply through the chatter of the commlink channel. "Poe, watch out!“ I hear Y/N’s warning a moment too late as a stray TIE Fighter clips the wing of my X-Wing in an attempt to stop me. I grit my teeth, watching the enemy ship crashing into the dense greenery.

"Looks like I’m gonna have to do an emergency landing.” My voice is gruff, knuckles white as I try to manoeuvre my ship to the ground. It’s rough, the impact jerking me painfully. The X-Wing scars the land, smoke pouring from it, but I’m alive. The comms crackle, but it’s too distorted and I’m too dazed to make sense of the garbled noise.

I force the hatch away, dragging myself out of the cockpit. A strangled yelp escapes me as my ankle twists under my weight. Despite the pain, I take a step, and quickly come to terms with the realisation that I won’t be walking right now.

“BB? Buddy? You there?” I cough out as I crawl a distance from the X-Wing. Some moments in which I receive no reply, and my stomach twists. I’ve been through too much with that droid to lose them.

A chirp relaxes me slightly. I sit up against a boulder as the astromech rolls into sight. My weak laugh of relief doesn’t help the aching of my head. The screeching of TIE Fighters above turns to background noise as I struggle to stay awake. I rub my face, tired and dizzy, pulling my hand away when I feel the blood.

Between that and the nausea threatening to pervade my senses, it doesn’t really look like I’m in a good position right now.

At the back of my mind, I vaguely register how the familiar sounds of starfighters no longer fill the air. I barely notice how BB-8 perks up and rolls a short distance away from me. Rather, I’m preoccupied with keeping my tired eyes open.

My droid’s frantic beeping causes me to shift towards the astromech, clenching my jaw and holding my ankle as I accidentally put pressure on it. BB-8 nudges me, drawing my attention elsewhere.

"What are you doing here?” My eyes are wide with surprise at the sudden appearance of Y/N before me. I almost don’t trust that what I’m seeing isn’t some adrenaline, injury induced hallucination. If it is, my mind apparently picked someone at random.

"I’m getting you home,“ She tells me, crouching at my side. "Can you walk?”

"Tried that. Didn’t last long.“ I laugh weakly, wiping blood from my forehead. Y/N pays no mind to my bad attempt at humour, simply offering me her hand, pulling me to my feet, and quickly moving to support me when I stumble.

"Think you can hobble?” She asks and I chuckle. Still, she goes on. “BB-8, keep up, okay?”

Nothing is said as we distance ourselves from the crash site. I grit my teeth as we go, wincing at the sharp pain shooting from my ankle when pressure is applied. I try to force my mind to wander, finding a distraction in the way Y/N watches me.

"You like what you see?“ I break the silence, trying to lightly make a joke as I catch her staring. She rolls her eyes, but the corners of her mouth give away the ghost of a smile.

"Stop walking for a moment,” She tells me, and I’m happy to oblige as she leads me to sit on a convenient tree stump. “How hard did you hit your head? And where else are you injured?”

"It’s really not that bad. It’s just a couple scratches-“ I cut off my own words as I lurch, managing to spin around before throwing up the contents of my stomach.

BB-8 chirps in concern while Y/N rubs my back soothingly, running a hand through my sweaty hair, pushing it back even though it’s not long enough to be in the way. It’s embarrassing, but I’m still appreciative.

"You were saying?” She says dryly. I laugh weakly, breathing heavily as I wipe my mouth. Y/N takes a knife to her jumpsuit as I attempt to regain my composure. Again she pushes back my hair, and I subconsciously lean into her palm, tired. She uses a strip of fabric to wipe away the blood drying my face, putting pressure on the wound as she meets my eyes. “Well, we know you have a concussion, Mr. ‘it’s-really-not-that-bad’. Quick question, how much do you weigh?”

My brow furrows momentarily as I figure out the meaning hidden behind her words. "You can’t be serious…“ I murmur. Her face is closer than I anticipated, her gaze intense. "You’re serious. Oh, _my knight in vibrant coveralls_.”

"You are in no shape to be up and about,“ Her tone is stern, but a smile slips onto her face. BB-8 agrees with her readily, chirping about my clear concussion. "And if I can carry my astromech, I can at least try to carry you.”

With a sigh of defeat, I end up on Y/N’s back. I pout as she carries me, BB-8 alongside us, as I hold the rag to my head. “It’s not that far now,” She reassures me. “And I swear, if you throw up on me, I’m leaving your ass behind.”

"I make no promises, doll.“ I laugh drowsily.

It’s silent as we walk. I rest my head on Y/N’s, my eyelids heavy, mind still fuzzy. Words slip out of my mouth before I can stop them. "Why’d you come for me?”

Somehow, in my concussed state I still catch the momentary falter in her pace. She’s quiet, apparently hesitant about her answer. “Because you’re a good person, Poe. You’re a valuable member of the Resistance,” She takes a deep breath. “Besides, what would we all be without the best pilot in the Resistance?”

I snort. "C'mon, everyone in the Starfighter Corps knows you don’t believe that,“ I say, continuing on blearily. "Not sure what I did to earn your distaste, though.”

Y/N doesn’t reply. I can practically feel the guilt radiating off of her. The silence is heavier now.

"I think,“ After a minute, she speaks up, voice quiet. "I think that I thought you were just some cocky flyboy, and I couldn’t understand why everyone held you in such high regard. Hell, most of my friends joined the Resistance because of your poster. I suppose after you helped me get a promotion, even after ignoring you in battle, my opinion started to change, but,” She pauses, swallowing thickly. “I guess I was just a little… envious? And I, uh, I suppose I still kind of am.”

I wasn’t expecting an answer, and I definitely wasn’t expecting her to admit to being envious. It catches me by surprise, and as I mull it over, my half-asleep mind forgets to let her know I’ve heard her. Still, I’m a little less willing to pass out now.

After a tedious walk, Y/N’s X-Wing finally comes into view, and her sigh of relief is notable. She puts me down, clearly happy to be rid of my weight, and quickly sets to work in the cockpit.

BB-8 and BB-09 murmur beeps as I lean back. I glance over at my fellow pilot when I hear her voice. She’s stood on the ladder into her ship, leaning over into it to reach the comms. I avert my gaze.

I still listen as she reports our current situation to base, though both of us are distracted by a distant explosion. With heavy hearts and deep frowns, we know Tift Anchor is dead.

Y/N exchanges a few more words with the base before dropping down beside me from the ladder. "Hey, have these,” She says, handing me a couple of energy bars, a flask of water, and sick bags. “You should keep sipping the water, but only start eating once your stomach has settled.”

"Thanks,“ I accept the rations, but taking note of how she’s kept nothing for herself. "What about you?”

"You need it more than I do. Besides, there’s still something I need to attend to.“ She tell me, shrugging. In my current state, I find myself speechless, just staring at her. She glances over her shoulder, biting her lip as though she was contemplating something.

"BB-8, '09, watch out for Poe,” Y/N comes to a decision, stripping herself of the very noticeable orange jumpsuit. Left in a tank top, leggings and boots, she clenches her jaw as she’s left exposed to the biting cold, handing me the bright article of clothing and my blaster. I frown for a moment, confused. “I’ll be back as soon as possible. You seem to have lost your blaster, and the coveralls are yours if you get cold or need to stop the bleeding or something.”

"Hey, Y/N,“ I stop her just before she goes, catching onto what she’s doing. "Thanks. For everything.”

"Just doing what I can for the best pilot in the Resistance.“ She flashes me a smile before running in the direction of the First Order tower.

For a minute, I watch as she disappears into the trees. She really is full of surprises.

Low chittering between the two droids pulls at my attention. BB-09 whirrs loudly, asserting itself, and looking me in the eye before rolling away at a high speed. My cries for the droid die in my throat as BB-8 gives a shrill shriek of dismay. Y/N’s astromech isn’t coming back without her.

Instead, I preoccupy myself with other things, and as I sip water from the flask, I frown up at Y/N’s X-Wing. We’re going to have to leave the moment she gets back. I take a deep breath and force myself to my feet, avoiding pressure being put on my sprained ankle.

I hobble forward, grimacing as I stumble into the side of the ship, bracing myself against the metal. I take a moment, hopping towards the cockpit, leaning down and pulling out the step ladder.

BB-8 offers me chirps of encouragement as I clutch the edge of the metal, slowly struggling to make my way up.

Eventually, I fall into the seat of the Starfighter. Breathing heavily, BB-8 cheers me on while I take a moment to push away the feeling of nausea that’s resurfaced.

“Wait. Kriff,” I groan, pushing myself into an upright position as I peer over the side. “How are we gonna fit you in here, buddy?”

BB-8 hums, contemplating my question. The droid looks around, seeming to be beginning to worry, at least until it decided to utilise it’s cable launchers.

I watch, admittedly worried about the astromech falling on my head, as BB suspends itself from tree branches above the cockpit, slowly lowering itself down. I take a brief moment to marvel at the ingenuity of my droid as it wedges itself behind the seat.

I slouch down, mind still clouded and tired. Behind me, BB-8’s soft whirrs are a comfort.

“Poe! Poe, where are you?” I stick my head out of the cockpit at the sound of loud whispers. Y/N spots me, grabbing something from her droid before practically vaulting in beside me.

With no warning, from the bottle she holds she splashes water on the gash on my forehead. I hiss as it burns, but make sure that I keep my movement in the tight, cramped space to a minimum. With a clear sense of urgency, Y/N rushes to dress the injury, wordlessly shoving a support sock into my hand. I put it on my ankle and knock back the nausea pills she hands me, now again feeling drowsy. In the distance, the alarms of the First Order building continue to sound.

The dark night sky offers us some cover as Y/N rapidly takes off, putting as much distance as possible between us and the moon before she makes the jump to hyperspace.

"We're almost home," She murmurs to me. I glance at her through heavy lids, quietly observing her actions. Starlight rushes by us, safely placing us in the Ileenium system. With D’Qar in sight, she speaks into the comms. "This is Ivory Leader, preparing for landing. You might want to get that medical team ready."

We touchdown as a group of medics rush out of the base, carrying a stretcher and being followed by a small number of curious onlookers. After Y/N hoists herself out of the ship, she offers me assistance. With my arm slung around her shoulder for support, we stumble towards help.

We’re swarmed by a medical team who immediately take me from Y/N. For a moment, my mind searches for her, still confused and vaguely panicked, but I’m put on a stretcher and allow myself to finally pass out.


End file.
